Portland, as with many cities of mentionable size, is a puzzle of ever interchanging districts. One block is full of quaint shoppes and questionable yet harmless looking fortune tellers, and the next seems to be a classic meatpacking district; riddled with smelly back doors and frightening auto garages. Just a moment later the pearl district is upon you, and hundreds of people are streaming in and out of The North Face, Banana Republic, and many gorgeous hoity toity restraints. In the span of ten minutes you can visit the most economically diverse sample of businesses imaginable. Constant among this assortment were the million dollar homes and churches with architecture spanning back to the 1800s. Although some have been taken over by mold and rot as a result of the constant moist climate, they still hold a great deal of beauty to the beholder.
Random objects and landscapes have begun to catch my eye more forcefully than ever before. The last few weeks have drawn me toward strange behavior, sitting or standing in the middle of the street to capture my perfect angle of the pavement has become routine. Maybe I’ve been overcome by some virus or bacteria, or maybe it’s just my wonderful new camera taking over my senses. Either way, I am enjoying this newfound distraction from life… and oncoming cars.